


How Lucky We Are

by allonsy_gabriel



Series: The Other 51 [5]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alexander Really Likes Avocados, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Hercules Is The Mom Friend, Hurricane Alexander, Lafayette Is A Little Shit, M/M, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Marquis de Lafayette, Pranks and Practical Jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 10:06:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10851744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsy_gabriel/pseuds/allonsy_gabriel
Summary: For as long as anyone could remember, Hercules Murray and Marie Motier de Lafayette had been connected at the hip.Or, how the HamilSquad found each other, and Alex really likes avocados.





	How Lucky We Are

**Author's Note:**

> This is... a mess. No other words for it. MESS.

For as long as anyone could remember, Hercules Murray and Marie Motier de Lafayette had been connected at the hip. Marie’s family had moved to the US from France when Marie was around eleven, and after meeting Hercules in fifth grade the two had been inseparable.

 

When Marie came to Hercules in ninth grade, sobbing about being broken, being a freak, Hercules had been there. He’d been there when Marie decided that they and them pronouns fitted better than she or her, when they’d cut their hair short, and Hercules was the one to get into fights when someone called them an abomination or something equally idiotic.

 

Likewise, Marie (or Laf, as they preferred to be called by anyone but Herc) had been the first one to pull Hercules into a hug when his father died. They’d opened up their home to Hercules and his brother Hugh when their mom’s new boyfriend took a liking to using Herc as his personal punching bag.  Laf was there with a hot chocolate and comforting words when the nightmares woke him up in a cold sweat.

 

Dating was second nature. It just sort of happened. The shift just seemed natural, like the obvious next step. Laf’s mom actually seemed confused when they told her, but only because she’d thought they’d been dating for  _ years _ .

 

So when memories began popping up like daisies in both of their minds, memories that could not possibly be from this life, it was obvious who they both turned to.

OoOoO

Hercules had awoken from a nightmare. That in and of itself wasn’t anything new. It was the contents of the dream that weirded Hercules out. Standing in the middle of blood, smoke, and mud and yelling at fellow soldiers (Soldiers? What?) as the battle raged around. The dream was so vivid Hercules could  _ smell _ it when he woke up. He spent the rest of the day in a sort of daze, thrown back to that field whenever he closed his eyes.

 

Laf noticed because they  _ always _ noticed these sorts of things.

 

“Mon cheri, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong,” they asked, taking Hercules’ hand in their own as they ate lunch.

 

“I just… I had a weird dream last night. It's nothing. Don't worry,” Hercules said as he rubbed the back of his neck.

 

“You're lying.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“Hercules! Please tell me. I worry,” Laf said, pressing their forehead against Hercules’.

 

“You don't need to worry, Marie. I'm fine, I swear. It was just a bad dream,” Hercules tried to reassure them. That went about as well as expected.

 

“Hercules Isaac Murray. What is wrong? Darling, please tell me,” Laf begged.

 

“I just… there was a war. I think. I was fighting, and people were dying all around me and it just shook me up a bit,” Hercules explained.

 

Laf sighed and pulled their boyfriend into a hug. “Will you promise me something, Hercules?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“If you're an old soul, tell me. As soon as you understand--if it's true… Tell me,” Lafayette said, running their fingers through Hercules’ hair.

 

“I promise,” Hercules replied as he leaned over to kiss their forehead, “And it goes both ways. Now c’mon. We've got class.”

 

It took a while for Hercules to make sense of the memories. For weeks, he dreamed of this other life, a life full of espionage and secrecy and sewing (Again, what?). Then, one night, long after Lafayette had fallen asleep, Hercules’ sat on his bed and tugged.

 

He tugged at the memories, trying to put them order and shift through the mess that was his mind.

 

It was like unplugging a bathtub. All of the sudden the memories were going down the metaphorical drain and into the pipes that were Hercules’ thoughts.

 

“Hercules Mulligan,” he muttered, and then glanced at Laf, who was sound asleep on the other side of the room.

 

Lafayette. Marie Motier de Lafayette. There was no question on who his significant other was.

 

This was fucking wild.

 

But hey. At least now he knew how to sew.

OoOoO

Lafayette had had enough of this. All they wanted was a single night's sleep without getting bombarded by memories of getting laughed off a dance floor or getting thrown in jail or something equally strange.

 

They'd suspected this, of course. Ever since they were eleven they'd had these sort of feelings, fleeting thoughts and flashes of a life they hadn't lived. And yet they'd never thought they'd be this.

 

Most reincarnates were some sort of subsistence farmer or factory worker in the past. Some were soldiers, yes, but they weren't _major_ _generals_ in the _American Revolution_ and _Actual French Revolutionaries_.

 

Laf didn't know what to do. They'd tell Hercules, obviously, but other than that, they were baffled. And exhausted. And worried.

 

Would Hercules still want to be with them? People typically didn’t date Old Souls out of fear of being left if they ever met someone they used to love. Then again, Hercules wasn’t exactly Fresh himself. He’d tried to hide it, of course, but Laf knew their boyfriend.

 

Maybe they knew them even better than they had originally thought. The name Hercules couldn’t be a coincidence, could it?

 

Damn. Their life was a mess. Again.

OoOoO

“Marie, I need to talk to you about the  _ thing _ we promised,” Hercules said the next morning, running a hand over his face.

 

“Yes, mon ange?” Laf asked, and Hercules noticed a sort of distracted and hesitant glint in their eyes.

 

“I figured it out last night. Who I was, or am, or whatever,” Hercules’ replied.

 

“That’s quite a coincidence. I think I figured myself out as well,” Lafayette replied quietly, running a hand through their short, messy curls.

 

“On three?” Hercules asked.

 

“Might as well.”

 

“One.”

 

“Two.”

 

“Three,” they said together and then, “Hercules Mulligan,” and “Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette.”

 

“What the fuck, Laf,” Hercules said, “You could’ve just said Marquis de Lafayette. I would’ve understood.”

 

“Yes, but I’m just proud of myself for remembering the whole thing,” Laf said, grinning up at their boyfriend.

 

“You’re literally royalty,” Hercules said.

 

“You’re an Irish James Bond. Your point?” Laf asked, crossing their arms.

 

“This is super messed up. Like. Really messed up,” Hercules said, rubbing his neck.

 

Lafayette immediately looked concerned and said, “Why? Does it matter to you?”

 

“No! No, not at all. I just. Aren’t we in that musical about Alexander?” Hercules’ asked, “And you’re in, like, textbooks. We learned about you in American History, Marie!”

 

“So? I’m still me. Just… more of me. You’re still Hercules, just extra Hercules,” Laf said, holding Hercules’ hand in their own.

 

“Still weird.”

 

“Not denying that.”

OoOoO

Life continued. They graduated a few months later and both went to college in New York, Lafayette for International Relations and Hercules for Business with a minor in Fashion Design because he wasn’t going to waste his new found ability to sew.

 

Nobody but Laf’s immediate family and Hugh knew anything about their past lives, and they were content with that. The less people knew, the better.

 

“Do you think there are others?” Lafayette asked while they were eating dinner.

 

“Huh?” Hercules replied eloquently. If he’d been distracted by how the dull lights of the Panda Express they were sitting in highlighted Laf’s cheekbones and eyes, well… that was his business.

 

“Other reincarnates or old souls or whatever you want to call them. Do you think there are others from our time?” Laf said, twirling his lo mein around on his fork.

 

“I mean, I suppose,” Hercules said with a shrug, “Why do you ask?”

 

“I just… I don’t know. I was just wondering. I mean, what’s the likelihood of us being the only two?” Laf asked.

 

Hercules sighed and pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “You miss them,” he said.

 

“And you don’t?”

 

There was a pause as Hercules ran his hands through his hair. “You know I do, Laf, but even if they are back, how would we find them?”

 

“You’re right. It’s best to not dwell in the past. But I can’t help but think of them!” Lafayette said, dropping their fork.

 

“I know, babe, I know, but there’s nothing we can do about,” Hercules replied.

 

“Fine. I don’t like it though,” Laf said and got back to his noodles.

 

“I don’t like it either.”

OoOoO

Laf and Hercules would’ve loved to say that they knew their friends on sight. That the moment Alex, Jon, and Daniel blew into that sandwich shop they recognized them. The truth was, not only did they not recognize them but they were mildly annoyed with them.

 

“You’ve never had a BLT? What the hell, Alex?” the Curly Haired One asked.

 

“I just. I never really saw the point, honestly,” the Shorter, Tired One replied.

 

“Even I think that’s sad,” the Tallest One replied.

 

“Can I get avocado on it?” Short-&-Tired asked.

 

“You and avocados I  _ swear _ ,” Curly responded.

 

“They’re amazing!”

 

“Can we  _ not _ argue about Alexander’s avocado obsession in public?” Tall said.

 

“Please,” Laf muttered, “I’m trying to enjoy my sandwich.”

 

“Laf!” Hercules scolded.

 

“What? It’s not like they could hear me!” Lafayette said.

 

“Eat your damn baguette sandwich you French fuck,” Hercules teased. Laf rolled their eyes and did, in fact, eat his baguette sandwich.

 

The trio sat down in the booth right across from the couple. The Tired Avocado Man--Alexander, if memory served--was practically sitting on Curly’s lap, and Tall just seemed resigned and exasperated with his friends’ antics.

 

“I’m just saying, the fact that Jefferson got a second term is a national disgrace,” Alexander said as he bit into his sandwich.

 

“Well,  _ someone _ could’ve prevented him from being president in the first place,” Tall grumbled, “But no.”

 

“I will not equivocate on my opinion, A-A-Ron,” Alexander said a moment later.

 

“One, don’t quote your own damn musical to me. Two, I told you, don’t call me that,” Tall, or Aaron, replied.

 

“Ladies, ladies, calm down. It was 250 years ago,” Curly said, kissing Alexander’s cheek. 

 

Lafayette and Hercules stared at each other for a moment, and then Laf smirked.

 

“No. Nuh-uh. You can't! They're just trying to eat lunch, Laf!" Hercules said.

 

“Please, Hercules? Mon ange?” Lafayette replied, widening their eyes and pouting. They knew how to play Hercules like a fucking  _ fiddle _ , and they knew it.

 

“Marie…”

 

“It’ll be fun!”

 

“Why do I put up with you?”

 

“Because you love me,” Laf said with a shrug, and then they turned to face Alexander, Aaron, and… Curly. “Excuse me, I couldn’t help but overhear. What do you mean someone could’ve prevented Thomas Jefferson from being president? That was, as your friend said, 250 years ago.”

 

Hercules could hear Curly mumble an “Oh shit.”

 

“We, uh… It’s nothing,” Alexander said, turning bright red.

 

“Oh, well. That’s unfortunate. My friend here would’ve been very interested in that information, seeing as he used to be Thomas Jefferson,” Laf said with a grin as he pointed at Hercules.

 

“Laf! What the hell?” Hercules said, “They’re lying, guys. I’m not Jefferson, I swear!”

 

“He’s being modest. He gets a bit embarrassed,” Laf said with an evil smile at their boyfriend.

 

“Oh my  _ God _ , you are the  _ worst _ ,” Hercules groaned.

 

“And that’s how I know he’s not Jefferson. Jefferson isn’t, er,  _ wasn’t _  modest,” Alexander said, rolling his eyes.

 

“Can’t help but agree there,” Aaron said quietly, and Curly snorted.

 

“And who are you to know, hmm?” Laf asked. They were expecting something along the lines of ‘US History major’ or ‘Someone who’s read Jefferson’s biography’ as an answer. That’s not what they got.

 

“Alexander Hamilton, Aaron Burr, and John Laurens,” Alexander said, crossing his arms.

 

Hercules sucked in a breath. No way.

 

“Babe, you can’t just out someone like that!” Curly--John?--said.

 

“Honestly,” Aaron said.

 

“Wait, why should we believe you?” Laf asked, but Hercules noticed that they were a lot paler than usual.

 

“Have I ever lied to you before, Lafayette?” Alexander said, raising an eyebrow.

 

“French Revolution,” John said behind a cough.

 

Alexander glared at his boyfriend, but did seem a lot more subdued.

 

Meanwhile Lafayette and Hercules were reeling. Alexander? John? Aaron Burr, for God’s sake? What was this? What if they weren’t telling the truth? But what if they  _ were _ ? They, or at least Alexander, recognized Lafayette. But then again, Hercules had called them Laf, and Laf was still noticeably French despite living in America for seven years. This was… no.

 

“No,” Hercules said, “No way. What kinda bullshit--you expect us to believe that?”

 

“It’s the kinda bs you just tried to pull on us,” John, or whoever he was, said.

 

“As a  _ joke _ !”

 

“Look,” Alexander said, “You guys are obviously reincarnates. Maybe that’s not Lafayette, but at least you guys are from… around here.”

 

“You’re not him. You can’t be him,” Hercules argued, “Marie, you don’t actually believe them, right? This is crazy!”

 

Laf looked between their boyfriend and the trio. “Hercules…” they muttered, “Mon coeur, you know it's  _ not _ .”

 

“But they can’t be! Everyone from before is gone!” Hercules said, his voice pitching up.

 

“Mulligan?” Alexander asked, raising an eyebrow, “Hercules, man, it’s me. I swear.”

 

Hercules narrowed his eyes, and for a moment he could see his old friend in front of him. The poor, scrawny, Scottish kid from the Caribbean. “Alexander,” he muttered.

 

“In the flesh.”

 

The next moment, Hercules and Lafayette were both wrapping Alexander and John both in a massive hug. And then Lafayette punched Alexander in the face.

 

“What the hell, Hamilton?” they said, “You go and get yourself shot? Honestly. The gall. And you!” they whirled on Aaron, who’d been silent this whole time, “You killed him! What the  _ fuck _ ?”

 

“Hey hey hey! Don’t kill Burr! It’s fine, we’re cool!” Alexander said, pulling Laf back.

 

“My last name is  _ Barnes _ , thank you,” Aaron said, crossing his arms and dragging his nails over his arm.

 

“Speaking of which. The name’s Alexander Hayley this time around, but most people stick to Alex. Jon’s full is Jonathan Latham, and sourpuss over there is Daniel Aaron Barnes,” Alex said, grinning at his old friends.

  
Laf and Hercules couldn’t help but smile back.


End file.
